A few years ago, a lot of things in my life were in the shitter. Kind of like now, but different. Anyway, my friend, Sasquatch, invited me down to his house on the outskirts of a small rural town in Mississippi for his family Easter celebration, and I've been going every year since. His parents, siblings, in-laws, kids, nephews and nieces, they all accept me as an odd part of their family, and I've definitely enjoyed creating some new traditions over the past few years.
Of course, the first tradition is stopping at Burgers and Stuff, a diner on the side of MS highway 72. I have had milkshakes in 20+ states in almost every region of the country, and Burgers and Stuff has the best, hands down. I personally prefer a large shake, half chocolate and half butterscotch; it tastes like you remember those soft caramel candies from your childhood tasting. If you're there for food, too, I wholeheartedly recommend the jumbo cheeseburger, double meat, double cheese, with a side of tots, but that's just my personal preference, which is, of course, always 100% the best choice. I always tell people that, when you go to a restaurant, and the menu looks like those, you're in the right spot.
But I just get my milkshake on Easter party day, because there is going to be some hella good food coming soon.
Mrs. Squatch cooks a mean ham. This year, she cooked two of them. I ate too much. Shocker.
There were a lot of sides, of course. The cheesy broccoli casserole was straight fire (pic taken before it was finished; my bad). Those mashed potatoes were fluffy as fuck, and, though she kept apologizing about the "mac and cheese" (not macaroni, of course, but who's counting?), it was also delicious.
The dish that I'm always most excited about, though, is the "cowboy beans." It's baked beans with beef, peppers, and something similar to crack cocaine. I eat a bunch of this shit; it's so fucking good. The thing is, in addition to being a great side, it's also the perfect gravy for those mashed potatoes.
I spend a lot of time, probably too much, figuring out how to plate my food when I cook, and presentation is important, but there's just something about country home cooking that throws all of that need for artistic visual appeal right out the window. The flavor and the aroma are so much better than anything I can put together; it's good, real food. Sometimes I think I (and many others) get too far up our own asses about doing things the "right" or "fancy" way, while the best, the most important, purposes of food - sustenance, community, heritage - are sometimes forgotten along the wayside.
So after lunch, my next tradition is that I pass out in Sasquatch's recliner. Just as I was dozing off, Mrs. Squatch told me that I needed to try Ma Ballard's apple cake. There couldn't have been fewer than 4 sticks of butter in that cake; it was positively divine. I ended up eating 3 slices, and I do not apologize for that. This was followed promptly by a food coma. I missed the Easter egg hunt, but it was some good sleep.
After the nap, and before folks started leaving, we spent time just hanging out, having a good time, and letting the dogs run around. Chloe and Gideon are good dogs, super sweet, absolutely adorable. They deserve a shoutout.
All in all, it was a great day with my unofficially adoptive family. I made the drive home, did some streaming, and finished the night with a snack while I watched The Bear.
Comments
Post a Comment